Cloudy and warm this morning. The sea looks more blue with the sun rising and the Aeolian islands are faint shadows floating on haze. As our first wild camp on Sicily it worked out fine.
We head back to the motorway and pass the signs we should have followed for the FA yesterday.
It's a boring 50 mile run along the A20, much of it underground and some tunnels are unlit, but it only costs €6.00 and we reach Cefalu around noon. It takes another half hour round the one way systems to find the camperstop at Via Lungi Mare on he seafront. We just miss the entrance but traffic in this one way street is light so Nick takes the Sicilian approach to the highway code, turns around and drives 40 yards back to the entrance. We park and head into town.
There are two things that cannot escape our attention; the thundering roar of waves crashing on the beach and the huge rock outcrop, La Rocca, towering over the town. Once an Arab citadel, a Norman castle was built on its top in 1061.
The old town is a grid of narrow streets, either cobbled or paved with shiny black volcanic stone. The walls are various shades of weathered ochre and the buildings are anything up to 6 storeys. Neat, wrought iron balconies overhang the streets where traders stand in their doorways but don't actively tout for business.
Piazza del Duomo, the cathedral square, slopes up to the cathedral steps. Legend says Roger 2nd built it in the 12C in thanks for his fleet being saved in a storm. More likely Roger was challenging the Papal powers in Palermo. A mixture of Arab and Norman architecture, the cathedral contains one of the best mosaics of Christ but today it is covered in netting, undergoing preservation work, but we can see some of the exquisite marble carvings. A flock of German sheep shuffle past, not really seeing anything as they follow their guide with her bunch of plastic daffodils.
Back in the piazza the restaurant terraces are busy, All around are ceramic flower pots, brightly painted with lemons, oranges and other colourful designs. The other prevalent design is a three legged wheel like the Isle of Man. The man in the TI says no one is sure of its meaning but the most popular is that it represents the three corners of Sicily's triangular shape.
Anywhere else these narrow streets would be pedestrianised, but Italy is still in love with the small car. Pandas and Smarts and Ypsilons squeeze past pedestrians while scooters weave around everything leaving the air heavy with 2-stroke fumes. Best sighting is a rare Alfa Romeo 4C.
We get arancini from a street food place. These are traditional, deep fried rice balls with porcini mushroom fillings. They weigh a ton and are delicious.
Out by the harbour wall the sea is really crashing, throwing up plumes of white spray over the rocks. Back by the beach the surf crashes noisily up the sand below the promenade where fly-pitchers are selling scarves, handbags, selfie sticks and hats.
The late afternoon sun lights up the town cathedral and La Rocca making it postcard perfect.
Early evening we head back into town. There are more walkers, fewer vehicles a a different atmosphere. We stop at a wine bar and have a large glass of vino rosso.
A bit more wandering and perusing menu, which include oggi pasta [there's a thought] leads us to Ristorante Via Roma Vecchia. Not only are they one of the early openers, but we are led in by a tall waitress whose black trousers and clip clop shoes show of her very nice bottom [Nick's opinion only]. The staff are pleasant and attentative and we enjoy traditional Sicillian pasta dishes with house wine followed by strong coffee.
Vintage iron lanterns illuminate the narrow streets as we return through them and past the still thundering sea front to the van.
Yesterday little went right.
Today could not have been better.